


even if your hands are empty

by super



Series: because you are my home [1]
Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, First Time, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Meddling, Mutual Pining, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-02
Updated: 2019-07-02
Packaged: 2020-06-02 16:49:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19445569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/super/pseuds/super
Summary: “So what’s up with you and our Channie these days?” Soonyoung asks one day. He sticks his socked feet in Wonwoo’s lap and Wonwoo slaps them off him without a second thought.Soonyoung shrugs and tucks his legs under himself instead.“I’m onto the two of you, you know,” Soonyoung continues, undaunted and annoying. “Chan’s been hanging out in the downstairs apartment a lot lately.”---Wonwoo tries to navigate around his feelings for Chan. Soonyoung is Extremely Annoying about it.





	even if your hands are empty

**Author's Note:**

> this fic and this ship consumed my entire weekend. just. bruh

“Would you like to go to the aquarium with me?” Wonwoo asks.

“Eh?” Chan says, mouth full of ramen and eyes full of surprise. Wonwoo supposes it might’ve been a little abrupt, seeing as he’s spent the entire meal in silence, but impromptu outings don’t just plan themselves.

Wonwoo pushes his half-finished tempura don at Chan, who digs into it immediately. “I heard you telling Seungkwan the other day that you’ve never been, and since it’s our day off, I thought I’d take you.”

Chan considers this as he chews on his food. “Is it okay though?”

“What do you mean?”

“Just, you know,” Chan says, waving his chopsticks around vaguely. “You usually go by yourself. And I know how important me-time is to you, so if me tagging along is going to be a bother…” 

Wonwoo laughs into his cup of green tea. “No, I wouldn’t have asked otherwise.”

“Well if that’s the case...” Chan says slowly.

Wonwoo rolls his eyes. “You wanna come with me or not?”  
  
Chan beams. “Yes, please.” 

\---

There are otters at the aquarium and they smell terrible. Chan has his phone out and is taking countless pictures of the slinky things gambolling about in the water.

“Hyung, look -- it’s me!” Chan says, his laughter muffled behind the fabric of his mask.

Wonwoo pats Chan between the shoulder blades, indulgent. “I can’t believe this is your first time at an aquarium.” 

Chan shrugs as he sends a picture of an otter to the group chat. Wonwoo feels his phone vibrate in his pocket. 

“Dunno,” Chan says, showing Wonwoo his phone screen, where Jeonghan is lamenting the tragic loss of his two favorite dongsaengs. A lesser man (Choi Seungcheol) would buy a tacky souvenir to pacify him with but Wonwoo refuses to cave. “We never had the money before, and now we barely have the time.”

“I suppose that’s true,” Wonwoo says. He leans his elbows on the railings and watches as Chan searches for an optimal selca angle. “But you do spend a lot of free time down in the practice room instead of resting like you should.”

Chan squints at him. “Is this an intervention?”

“Call it an observation,” Wonwoo says, grinning. “It’s only an intervention if it’s a problem.”

“Smooth,” Chan says. He shuffles closer and Wonwoo automatically puts an arm around his shoulders. “Come take a selca with me. Gonna send it to the chat and make them jealous.”

It’s nice, Wonwoo thinks later, as they sit on one of the benches in the viewing gallery to rest their feet and to watch the fish swim around from behind the glass. Chan is eating blue cotton candy and seems to have expended most of his energy in the first three hours of the outing. Wonwoo nudges Chan’s knee with his own and Chan pinches a clump of cotton candy off his cone and stuffs it into Wonwoo’s waiting mouth. 

It’s different but it’s nice. 

Wonwoo’s never considered company before this; maybe exceptions should be made from time to time.

\---

The new year arrives eventually and January is freezing as always.

Wonwoo’s fresh off an ill-advised gaming binge when Chan wanders into their dorm one day. 

“Oh,” Chan says, closing the apartment door behind him as softly as he can manage. “Morning. Didn’t expect you to be up.”

“Haven’t slept,” Wonwoo admits wryly. It’s not often they get two days off in a row these days. “Wouldn’t be awake at 9am otherwise. Why are you here?”

Chan makes a beeline for their refrigerator and grabs a Coke. “Slept too early last night and now I’m up and kind of hungry. Everyone else upstairs is asleep so I thought I could try my luck here.”

Wonwoo stretches in his bed and wiggles his toes. “I could eat,” he says. Maybe sleep will come a little easier later on, when he’s not this keyed up from playing ranked matches all night.

“Really?” Chan says, brightening up immediately. “I kind of want to try that Chinese place in Myeongdong that Jun hyung recommended. You wanna come with?”

\---

Wonwoo pays because what kind of hyung would he be if he didn’t? Chan is chatty the whole time, rambling on about the side projects he’s working on, filling Wonwoo’s silence with far more ease than he did the last time they had lunch together.

“You know, I think I get it now,” Chan says suddenly, breaking the long companionable silence that the jjajangmyeon’s arrival caused. 

“Mm?”

“You’re always quiet like this because you’re listening to people.”

Wonwoo tilts his head at that. “Is that so?”

Chan laughs and bumps his shoulders against Wonwoo’s. He’s gotten so broad lately. “I’m just saying. It made me a little nervous back then because it felt like I was annoying you by talking so much, but you’re just a good listener, aren’t you, hyung.”

Wonwoo blinks. “I made you nervous?” 

Chan waves his hand. “Ah, no, I was just being stupid. I know better now.” 

“I like listening to you,” Wonwoo says, picking up a mandu and putting it in Chan’s bowl. “You’re passionate about things and it’s… Hm.” He pauses, searching for the words. Chan’s eyes are wide and expectant. “... Refreshing.”

Perhaps there are better ways to describe the fresh kindling of resolve he feels when he watches Chan throw himself into their work every day, Wonwoo thinks, but even his extensive vocabulary isn’t enough to put the energy and love he receives from the other members into words. There are better ways to show his appreciation, anyway, and maybe a quiet lunch out is one of them. 

Chan ducks his head at the small praise nonetheless, and Wonwoo smiles at the secret curl of Chan’s lips around his chopsticks. 

Wonwoo crashes hard when they finally get home, sleeping the sleep of the carb-laden and sleep-deprived while the others finally awaken and begin puttering around in the kitchen. It’s dark outside by the time he gets up again, and Seokmin’s left food on the counter for him. The apartment is empty and still; even Jihoon is nowhere to be found. He eats the leftovers without bothering to heat it up and checks the notifications on his phone in the meantime. 

Chan is on Vlive and Wonwoo clicks into the app just as he starts talking about their lunch earlier.

‘We had a date’, Chan tells Carats, looking far too pleased with himself about it, and Wonwoo snorts.

Is that what it was? A date?

He taps a couple of encouraging hyung hearts and leaves the stream on. He has another meal with Chan’s voice for company and it’s really not a terrible thing at all. 

\---

When Chan’s Danceology video is finally released, their group chat explodes with over-the-top praise for their maknae. 

“omg pls” Chan texts back, his reply almost lost amidst the storm of Dino fancams being sent over the chat. “why r u guys like this”

“DINO SEXYYYYYYYYY” is Soonyoung’s eloquent response to that, and the group chat goes off once more.

Wonwoo has all his electronic devices laid out on his bed in a neat row when Chan lets himself into their apartment. 

“Oh my god,” Chan says breathlessly as he kicks his flip flops off at the doorway. “They’re all being insane right now. Soonyoung’s been pinching my cheeks for the past half an hour and Seungkwan is — what the hell is that?”

The sound of six different screens playing Chan’s Danceology video at full volume fills the living room.

“Uh,” Wonwoo says. “I was going to take a picture and send it to the chat.”

Chan gapes at him. “I didn’t know you could stream on the Switch.” 

Wonwoo pushes his glasses further up the bridge of his nose. “I’m resourceful.” 

They share a strained beat of silence before Chan loses it. He flops onto Wonwoo in his mirth and Wonwoo catches him with a helpless giggle before they both fall over backwards onto his bed.

“I can’t believe you -- you --” Chan wheezes and loses the rest of his sentence to laughter again. His arms go around Wonwoo’s shoulders in a messy sideways hug and something hits the floor in a clatter of plastic. Wonwoo sincerely hopes it’s one of his old phones. 

It turns out to be his old 3DS when they finally untangle themselves, so everything’s good. Chan also radiates heat like a furnace, Wonwoo discovers.

“I think you win today,” Chan says, grinning. He has Wonwoo’s Switch in his possession now and is pressing buttons at random, getting hopelessly lost in the unfamiliar interface. Wonwoo beckons at him and Chan hands it back over so Wonwoo can pull up Smash Bros for him.

“That was at least twelve whole views on Youtube,” Wonwoo says, gathering all the scattered devices and setting them on the floor. “I better be your fanclub president.” 

Chan laughs with his entire body and Wonwoo is hopelessly endeared. “Okay, hyung,” he says, flopping back down onto the mattress with the Switch and making himself comfortable. Wonwoo makes space for him immediately. “You’ve got the job.”

He adds another ten or twenty views to the video by the week’s end just to show his support. 

\---

Time is a funny thing. Their fourth anniversary sneaks up on all of them in the middle of a whirlwind of promotions and airport terminals that have begun to look the same after a while. Wonwoo barely has the wherewithal to muster up the appropriate emotion for it when the time comes to film a celebratory cocktail party. The idea behind the concept eludes him, honestly, but it’s probably a nod at how they’re all allowed to drink now that Chan’s finally of age.

He definitely looks the part; Chan’s white shirt stretches across his shoulders as he mixes up a cocktail at the bar and Wonwoo… well. He observes and takes careful note of it. Being the only person who voted for Chan’s drink, he ends up with Chan’s deceptively potent cocktail mix at the end of the segment -- his first drink in a shoot that somewhat unwisely allows them free flow alcohol as a central concept.

Wonwoo supposes the alcohol makes some people (Boo Seungkwan) sentimental, but Wonwoo is not one of them. Everything still gets a little soft and warm around the edges by the end of the shoot and he somehow ends up perched on a barstool by Chan’s elbow while the crew packs up around them.

Chan is smoothing down the edges of his rolling paper with careful hands, and going by the faint flush on his face that goes all the way down his chest, Chan is as close to happily buzzed as you can get while still on a work schedule.

“You really think I look cool when I’m working?” Chan asks, rereading the text on his paper. Anonymity is a farce when they’re all intimately familiar with each others’ atrocious handwriting. 

“Of course,” Wonwoo says, his skin prickling at the strange earnestness in Chan’s voice. “You always impress me.” 

Chan smiles and it lights up something bright and hot in Wonwoo’s chest. They’re in a dark corner, quiet and still while the rest of the world bustles around them and it would be easy -- so easy -- to hold Chan’s hand in his own and say something he might regret.

Wonwoo leans forward, helpless.

“Thank you, hyung,” Chan says before Wonwoo has the chance to fuck everything up. 

Wonwoo lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. 

“Anytime.”

So. There might have been other things that snuck up on Wonwoo this past year. 

\---

“What are you watching?” Chan calls from the kitchen. 

“Pro gamer live streams,” Wonwoo says, flat on his back in his bed in the living room, his laptop warming his chest.

Jihoon emerges from his room to add to the pile of garbage by the fridge that will certainly inspire a storm of nagging from Mingyu sometime this week.

“You’re here a lot lately,” Jihoon says by way of greeting.

“Seungkwan ate all the carbonara Samyang upstairs,” Chan replies as he deftly dodges a hip check.

Jihoon snorts and slants a glance at Wonwoo on his way back to his room. “I’ll let the managers know about the tragic shortage.” 

Wonwoo ups the volume on his stream in response. 

Chan leaves bits of instant ramyeon on the counter as he cooks and Wonwoo starts to feel a little bad for Mingyu but not nearly bad enough to help clean up. He levers himself up on an elbow when Chan trots over to feed him his noodles.

Chan sits cross-legged on the floor next to Wonwoo’s bed with his supper and lets Wonwoo stroke his hair absently as he eats.

It’s comfortable and good. It should be enough. 

\---

(It's not.) 

\---

“So what’s up with you and our Channie these days?” Soonyoung asks one day. He sticks his socked feet in Wonwoo’s lap and Wonwoo slaps them off him without a second thought.

Soonyoung shrugs and tucks his legs under himself instead. 

“I’m onto the two of you, you know,” Soonyoung continues, undaunted and annoying. “Chan’s been hanging out in the downstairs apartment a lot lately.”

Wonwoo rolls his eyes and steals Soonyoung’s drink. “We’ve just been playing Mario Kart. You can join us if you want.”

“And get in the middle of all that sexual tension?” Wonwoo chokes on the iced coffee. Soonyoung’s smile turns sharp. “No thank you.” 

“What the fuck are you on about?” Wonwoo says. 

“I’m observant,” Soonyoung says smugly.

Wonwoo scoffs. 

“Okay, fine, maybe I heard some things too.” 

Wonwoo narrows his eyes at Soonyoung. “And what did you hear?”

Soonyoung raises his chin in a challenge. “Enough to ask if you’re interested in Chan.”

The subsequent silence is so protracted that Soonyoung begins to fidget. It’s a lot more patience than Wonwoo’s giving him credit for, though, to be honest. 

“Say I am interested,” Wonwoo says slowly, reluctantly. Soonyoung shoots up in his seat and opens his mouth and Wonwoo sticks a hand in his face to shut him up before he even starts with his bullshit. “Even if I was, the fact remains that both of us work together. It’s a pointless line of thought to pursue.” 

Soonyoung frowns. “I have to disagree,” he says soberly, and Wonwoo isn’t the least bit surprised. “Things have a chance of working out.” 

Wonwoo sighs. “You’re awfully willing to risk our group dynamic over my hypothetical crush.” 

Soonyoung’s lips curve up, though his eyes remain serious. “Is that what it is? A crush?”

“Shut up.” 

“I want to see my best friends happy,” Soonyoung says, and Wonwoo wants to strangle him for dragging the truth out of him. It’s like he spoke it into existence -- all the abstract longing he’s kept buried all these months under the guise of work and brotherly camaraderie suddenly grows hooks and tears into him. It’s real now, and there’s no taking it back. “I think that’s worth a bit of risk.”

“Hypothetically,” Wonwoo reminds him, suddenly feeling very tired.

Soonyoung gives him a thumbs up. “Right! Hypothetically. I’m glad we talked about this.” And then he sips his coffee with such an affected air of nonchalance that Wonwoo is immediately suspicious.

“... Right. Good talk.” 

\---

Wonwoo ends up rooming with Chan in Okinawa and he knows exactly who to blame for it. 

**[ Wonwoo ]** What are you up to.

 **[ Soonyoung ]** idk what ur talking abt

 **[ Wonwoo ]** I was supposed to room with Jun.

 **[ Soonyoung ]** impt performance team stuff to discuss u wouldnt get it

 **[ Wonwoo ]** CHAN’S PART OF PERFORMANCE TEAM

 **[ Soonyoung ]** wow the hotel wifi is so bad i cant receive texts suddenly

Wonwoo aggressively sends Soonyoung a bunch of middle finger emojis before he tosses his phone onto his bed. 

Chan pauses in his unpacking, concerned. “What’s going on?”

Wonwoo scowls. “Soonyoung,” he mutters. 

Chan is immediately understanding. “Ah,” he says, because that’s really all the information anyone needs to empathize with Wonwoo. Chan begins fiddling with the cap on his shaker bottle, suddenly sheepish. “Um. Sorry if this was kind of a surprise. I know you were expecting to room with Jun hyung so if -- if my being here is ruining any plans, I can go crash with Hansol instead.”

Wonwoo almost laughs because of how wrong Chan’s gotten it. “No, no --” he says, and a bit of laughter does end up bubbling out of him anyway. Chan looks at him strangely, but there is relief in his expression too. His shoulders relax and he goes back to poking around in his suitcase. “No, Channie, this is nice. Our only plan was for Jun to completely ignore me while I watch anime on my laptop. I think we can work around that.” 

“Yeah?” Chan sits cross-legged on the carpet with a bottle of protein powder in his lap and Wonwoo gives in to the urge to run his hand through Chan’s unstyled hair. Chan scrunches his nose and leans into it and it really doesn’t do any favors for Wonwoo’s heart. “Which anime?” 

Wonwoo strokes the curve of Chan’s ear one last time before he makes himself pull away. “One Piece?” 

“That’s the only one I know!” Chan exclaims. “I could watch it with you.”

Wonwoo hates Kwon Soonyoung but he also loves him. Not that he’d ever say it to his face.

“I’d like that.” 

\---

The weather in Okinawa is downright balmy, and Wonwoo basks in the fading afternoon sun in an unreasonably spacious deck chair while the others run about playing jokgu after rehearsals. 

Chan trails sand into their hotel room after, shaking saltwater out of his hair like a dog. Wonwoo shoves him into the bathroom before he has the chance to make a bigger mess. He listens to the shower run while he orders them both room service and takes a long, long moment to pass judgement on his own lack of chill once the call disconnects. Wonwoo is more self-aware than most (Kwon Soonyoung); the fact that he’s this keyed up over watching a bunch of anime with Chan is beyond tragic and yet, like an insane person, he finds himself barrelling forward with it anyway.

He catches himself fluffing a pillow and drops it back onto the bed like it burned him. 

“What the fuck,” he says, mostly to himself but also to God, who is making his life a joke.

“What?” Chan calls from the bathroom.

“I said room service will be here any minute!” Wonwoo calls back. He grabs his laptop and boots it up just to prevent himself from doing anything else. 

Wonwoo’s phone chimes. 

**[ Soonyoung ]** btw chan likes to walk around shirtless in the hotel room after showering ur welcome

Wonwoo shoves his phone under the covers just as Chan emerges from his shower. Wet and shirtless, like Soonyoung said, but also with a red splotch on his chin from squeezing a pimple too hard and day-old stubble on his face. Chan scratches his stomach like an old man at a sauna and Wonwoo spies the beginnings of a bruise on his hip from floorwork during rehearsals.

“God, I really hate shaving my legs in the summer,” Chan complains, and all of Wonwoo’s unfounded nerves just melt away in the face of this slightly gross Lee Chan that he’s grown up next to. 

Wonwoo pats the space next to him and Chan leaps onto the bed and makes himself comfortable. “Is this the latest episode?” he asks, toweling his hair off as Wonwoo presses play.

“I’m about ten behind,” Wonwoo admits. They’ve been busy lately.

“Cool,” Chan says, leaning his full weight into Wonwoo’s side. “Anime marathon. Sounds like a plan.”

\---

It’s absurdly easy -- that’s the thing. They’ve all spent most of their lives in each others’ pockets, thirteen sets of awkward gangly limbs tangled together because they lacked the space before, physical closeness written into the DNA of their group dynamics before they even debuted. Wonwoo’s always had a soft spot for Chan -- he’s known this from the beginning -- but somehow he’d missed the part when all of his formless, vague affection sharpened to a fine point and became _this_. 

They make it through five episodes before Chan falls asleep, sun-warm and heavy, his arm draped across Wonwoo’s belly. It’s nothing particularly new or groundbreaking: Wonwoo’s seen all of them naked more times than he’s happy with. Soonyoung tries to spoon him all the time. He’s shared a bed with everyone at least once, and yet --

And yet.

Wonwoo puts his laptop away and pulls the comforter over both of them. He would’ve done the exact same thing even if he wasn’t half in love with Chan, but the context -- the way his heart pounds in his chest over it -- makes all the difference. 

Chan sighs in his sleep and clings tighter. Wonwoo holds him and lets himself pretend, if only for a second, that any of this is special. 

He falls asleep eventually.

\---

The room door slams open and Wonwoo jolts awake. 

“Holy shit,” he hisses as Soonyoung flicks all the lights on upon entering.

Chan is slower to rouse but he manages to drag himself upright with a groan, squinting in the sudden brightness. “Hyung..?"

“Wow,” Soonyoung says, far too loudly for whatever hour of the night this is. Wonwoo reaches past Chan for the nightstand in search of his glasses and his blurred vision coalesces into one Kwon Soonyoung, wearing a bathrobe over sweatpants, grinning down at him and Chan. “I knew the hotel room thing would work but I didn’t know it would work _THIS_ well.”

Wonwoo can only stare.

“Congrats on the sex!” Soonyoung chirps. He’s eating the leftovers on their room service tray.

“Hyung!” Chan yelps, mortified, and Wonwoo feels his soul evaporate in that exact moment. 

“You’re welcome, you know,” Soonyoung sniffs. “I made all of this happen.” 

Wonwoo flings a pillow at him. “Why are you even here?!”

“We didn’t have sex!” Chan cries. 

“It’s my birthday!” Soonyoung announces.

Wonwoo pinches the bridge of his nose. “Happy birthday,” he says. “I love you but please get out.”

Soonyoung winks at them on his way out and Wonwoo considers the ramifications of smothering him with a pillow. A group could very well exist with just twelve members. “Just remember that I’m responsible for your happiness when you present me with my gift later.” 

“You didn’t do shit,” Wonwoo calls after him. He pointedly avoids looking at Chan. 

“ _God,_ I love being a genius.” 

The door shuts behind Soonyoung with a click and it plunges the room into a silence so thick that Wonwoo thinks he might choke on it. The faint commotion of Soonyoung barging into Jeonghan and Seokmin’s room next filters through the walls. Wonwoo cannot believe he talked their managers into handing over the emergency keycards. 

Chan has his face in his hands and his ears are bright red. 

“Um,” Wonwoo says. He doesn’t have anything to follow it up with. Chan’s outrage at the idea of being with him is a vicious ache in his chest. It’s hard to think.

“I’m so sorry,” Chan says, the words muffled behind the palms of his hands. He sounds about as miserable as Wonwoo feels. 

“Don’t be,” Wonwoo says hollowly. “There’s nothing to be sorry for.”

“I wasn’t planning to confess,” Chan whispers, and Wonwoo heart stops. “I just -- I told Soonyoung about it because -- because he’s Soonyoung, you know? Then he pulled this thing with the room switch and I couldn’t say no --” 

“Chan,” Wonwoo interrupts. His ears are ringing and nothing makes sense. “What are you trying to say?” 

Chan makes a wounded noise and Wonwoo is sorry for pressing, he really is, but he _needs to know_.

“I like you, hyung,” Chan says, staring down at his hands. “A lot more than I should.”

“Holy shit,” Wonwoo breathes. Chan flinches and Wonwoo takes Chan’s hands in his own, hope expanding in his ribcage until he feels fit to burst. “Maybe he really is a genius.”

Chan hazards a peek at Wonwoo’s face. “... Hyung?”

“At the risk of sounding like a grade schooler,” Wonwoo says, running a thumb across Chan’s knuckles and feeling his face heat up. Chan’s eyes are wide and vulnerable and Wonwoo notices that the tip of his nose is a little sunburnt. “I like you too. Quite a lot.” 

“Oh,” Chan says when it dawns on him. “Oh, what the fuck.” 

“Soonyoung can never know,” Wonwoo says darkly. “He’s smug enough as it is.”

Both their phones vibrate at the same time and they jump. Wonwoo snatches his off the nightstand, feeling wrung-out and jittery all at once.

**[ Seungkwan ]** wtf

 **[ Seungkwan ]** soonyoung fucked up his own surprise party AGAIN

 **[ Soonyoung ]** HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME!!!!!!!!

 **[ Seungkwan ]** let’s just meet in his room for cake and beer

He shows Chan his phone screen, and he laughs shakily. “Now what?” He asks.

Wonwoo looks at their joined hands and wets his lips. “We eat cake, I guess.”

Chan’s face falls. “That’s it?”  
  
“... And then we come back and talk about this properly.” 

Chan nods slowly, mulling it over. “Okay,” he says finally, the laser focus he reserves for performing directed at Wonwoo and Wonwoo alone. “I just thought I’d at least get a kiss out of it before we go.”

Wonwoo didn’t lie: Chan always impresses.

“I can manage that,” he says, sounding more confident than he feels. The back of Chan’s neck is blazingly warm under his hand when he touches it. 

Chan tips his chin up and Wonwoo gives in to the inevitable; he’s never been able to deny Chan of much -- why should this be any different?

The kiss is soft. It’s gentle and shy and Wonwoo is lost in it, in the quiet noise Chan makes in his throat before he deepens the kiss, in the way the tips of Chan’s fingers curl in Wonwoo’s shirt like he wants to cling and never let go.

Wonwoo wants so badly to keep this.

Their phones chime again and Wonwoo makes himself pull away. Chan whines, and the noise sends a shiver down Wonwoo’s spine. 

“We should go,” Wonwoo rasps.

Chan’s eyes are dark slits. He heaves a sigh, shrugging his shoulders as if to shake the past couple of minutes off.

“Okay, hyung,” he says. “Let’s go.” 

\--- 

The cake is good though. Wonwoo’s out in the hallway with a paper plate in his hands, away from the crush of members and staff jostling about in Soonyoung’s room. He lost Chan to the rowdiness and the promise of a can of Asahi more than fifteen minutes ago. It’s a good thing the company had the entire floor booked out.

Surrounded by the warmth of his members celebrating one of their own, Wonwoo’s thoughts are startlingly clear. He feels light. Hopeful.

Chan’s laughter is boisterous as always and resonant, still, in all the commotion. Wonwoo takes another bite of cake to hide his smile. 

“I notice you’ve failed to bring a gift,” Soonyoung says. There’s a flush high on the apples of his cheeks and he looks radiant in the dim hallway lighting, thriving in the spotlight where he belongs, giving love and receiving it in return. 

“It’s in Jihoon’s cupboard,” Wonwoo says, smirking. “You’ll have to wait till we get home to find out what it is.” 

Soonyoung pouts and steals the strawberry that Wonwoo’s been saving for last.

“Channie told me what happened.”

Wonwoo hums. He expected this; Chan tells Soonyoung everything. Doesn’t mean that he won’t make Soonyoung work for it. 

And work he does. “So are you guys official now or what?”

“That depends on what Chan wants,” Wonwoo says carefully.

Soonyoung snorts. “I’m pretty sure I know exactly what Chan wants,” he says, and Wonwoo has the sneaking suspicion that Soonyoung’s been in Chan’s corner this whole time. Et tu. “What do you want?”

Wonwoo thinks for a long time before he replies. “Whatever he’s willing to give,” he says, laying the truth at their feet for the first time and feeling better for it. He trusts Soonyoung to know when not to be an asshole about things. “I think I’d be happy no matter what.” 

Soonyoung chuckles and it is not unkind. “You’re such a fucking romantic.” 

“And you’re a fucking pain in my ass,” Wonwoo replies. Soonyoung beams and Wonwoo pulls him into a hug. “Happy birthday, asshole. Go annoy someone else for once.”

Soonyoung takes advantage of the heartfelt moment and kisses Wonwoo on the cheek. “Love you too. I’ll get Channie for you so you can finally fuck or whatever.” 

\---

For somebody who’s only recently been allowed to legally drink, Chan is a champ at it. The alcohol loosens the slope of his shoulders and turns him warm and happy, and up close like this, leaning into Wonwoo’s space while he keys their room door open, Chan’s eyes are bright and alert.

Every single inch of Wonwoo’s body is attuned to Chan’s every move. 

Stepping inside and closing the door behind them is relief and torture all at once. Chan moves past him to sit on Wonwoo’s bed while he latches the door this time for good measure.

The expression on Chan’s face is complicated, but Wonwoo thinks he can begin to parse it -- he’s seen the same look in Chan’s eyes just before he takes the stage alone. Courage and fear all at once, standing at a precipice and waiting for his cue to leap. 

Wonwoo takes his place opposite him on Chan’s untouched bed. Their knees touch and even that is electric in the summer heat. 

The corners of Chan’s lips turn up and Wonwoo finds his resolve in them.

“I’ll go first,” he says, breaking the silence. Chan sits up a little straighter in his seat. “This is bigger than us. We have to make sure that Seventeen comes first, and if we -- if we can’t manage that, then we probably shouldn’t start anything in the first place.”

Chan exhales quietly. “You’re not pulling any punches, huh.” 

Wonwoo nods. “I’ve had time to think.”

Chan’s expression is wry. “I mostly thought about other stuff. Your stuff, mostly.” 

Wonwoo lets out a surprised bark of laughter that absolutely destroys the tension. 

“But yeah,” Chan continues, looking pleased with himself. He doesn’t take his eyes off Wonwoo’s hand on his knee. “I agree with you, hyung. The group comes first.” 

Chan’s answer loosens a knot in Wonwoo’s throat. He takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. “So… so then I guess this means we’re starting something.” 

Chan crosses the space between them first and settles next to Wonwoo, his torso twisted to face him, one hand propping himself up. Always eager to push forward, always reckless, always brave.

“I’d like that very much, “ he says, letting his head tilt loosely back, and Wonwoo feels his pulse kick up at the invitation, momentarily floored by the fact that he’s allowed to trace the tendon on the side of Chan’s neck with his fingers if he wanted to. He hooks a thumb under Chan’s chin and watches the way his throat bobs as he swallows instead.

“Chan ah,” Wonwoo whispers.

Chan smiles and it lights up the planes of his face like the sun. Wonwoo is welcomed. He is home.

_“Hyung.”_

Wonwoo kisses him for the second time and Chan melts into it immediately. His hand covers Chan’s on the bedspread as he presses forward, taking up whatever space Chan offers. He drags his palm up over wrist, bicep, shoulder before settling on the slant of Chan’s jaw in a gesture of pure greed. Chan arches and shudders and drags Wonwoo closer by the back of his shirt.

Chan is trembling by the time Wonwoo lets up, and going by the heavy-lidded gaze he trains on Wonwoo, it’s exactly where he wants to be. 

Wonwoo had no idea it would feel this good. 

Chan smooths a palm down Wonwoo’s flank and keeps going until it reaches the hem of his shirt. Wonwoo eases off Chan and pulls his shirt off. He helps Chan out of his shirt too and it reveals nothing he’s not already seen thousands of times. But context -- Wonwoo is beginning to realize lately -- context is everything, and the crest of Chan’s collarbones and the dip of his hips are brand new to him today. The flush on Chan’s face extends all the way down to his sternum and Wonwoo wants to taste it. 

“Good?” Wonwoo asks. He toys with the drawstring on Chan’s sweatpants just to watch the breath stutter in Chan’s chest. His glasses are hopelessly smudged and knocked slightly askew and Chan eases it off his face and sets it on the nightstand. 

“Spectacular,” Chan says breathlessly. He lifts his hips and Wonwoo pulls his pants and boxers down his thighs, calves and ankles before tossing them aside. Chan’s cock is hard already and Wonwoo wraps his fingers around it before he can think too much about it. The gasp he’s rewarded with chases all other thoughts out of his head.

Chan’s mouth is slack and wet and so, so very lovely. Wonwoo kisses him and swallows the end of a broken sigh. 

“Oh fuck, hyung --” Chan moans, and that’s lovely too.

Wonwoo scrapes his teeth down the length of Chan’s neck and touches Chan in all the ways Wonwoo likes to touch himself, committing details to memory with the press of skin. Chan’s hips buck up when Wonwoo passes a thumb over the head of his cock; Wonwoo has never held this much power and been so powerless himself.

He wants to watch Chan come under him. He wants Chan’s lips to hold the shape of his name when he falls apart. He wants a great many things now that he’s allowed to want. 

“Channie,” Wonwoo says, coaxing Chan’s orgasm out of him. “Chan, chan --”

Chan’s hands leave welts on Wonwoo’s shoulders when he comes between them. 

Wonwoo presses kisses to trembling eyelids as Chan slowly returns to him.

“Wow,” Chan says shakily. His eyes are dazed and a little awestruck when he finally opens them and Wonwoo has never been more fond. “Five out of five stars. That was awesome.”

Wonwoo wipes his hand on Chan’s bedspread so he can brush Chan’s sweaty bangs out of his eyes. Chan allows Wonwoo to fuss long enough to catch his breath, and then he presses forward and takes control like he’s been waiting to do so for a while.

Wonwoo lets him. 

Chan ends up on top and Wonwoo’s dick twitches so hard in his pants from the implications of it that he groans. Chan scoots down, his hard thighs bracketing Wonwoo’s own, and even that feels like too much. Chan slips a hand into Wonwoo’s pants and even though Wonwoo has not touched a single drop of alcohol today, he feels like he’s drunk. 

“You’re so wet, hyung,” Chan says, his voice barely a whisper yet full of wonder, and his hand is gloriously warm and tight around Wonwoo.

Wonwoo tries to come up with a witty response to that but Chan pushes the waistbands of Wonwoo’s sweats and briefs further down his thighs and closes his mouth over the head of Wonwoo’s cock without warning. Wonwoo gasps and his hands fly to grasp at Chan’s hair.

Chan’s eyes dance with delight when they meet Wonwoo’s, and then, very deliberately, Chan bobs his head once, just to see what it does to Wonwoo. 

“Channie, what the fuck --” Wonwoo moans, trying his hardest not to buck up. He expected a handjob out of this at the very most; Lee Chan just tramples all over his expectations and puts his mouth on its dick, apparently. “Where did you learn this?” 

Chan’s mouth is obscenely red when he speaks. “Porn,” he says, matter-of-factly. “Like everyone else.”

Wonwoo makes a strangled noise in his throat at the mental image. 

“And I guess --” Chan adds, going a little pinker than before. “I guess I’ve been fantasizing about doing this to you for a while.” 

Somehow _this_ is what knocks all the breath from Wonwoo’s lungs. 

“Oh,” he says faintly. He touches the rise of Chan’s cheekbone in wonder and Chan bumps his head up against Wonwoo’s palm like a cat.

“Yeah, so let me just --” Chan strokes Wonwoo and the friction is exquisite. It’s a convincing argument, as far as one goes. “Let me do this for you, hyung.”

Wonwoo nods, lost in the sensation and the force of Chan’s conviction, and Chan takes Wonwoo’s cock in his mouth again. 

It doesn’t take long; Wonwoo falls apart under Chan in less than a minute. He comes, seeing sparks, down the back of Chan’s throat, pulling at Chan’s hair in a way that must hurt.

He loosens his grip eventually and Chan rocks back on his heels, his hair a wreck, his lips a gorgeous smear, all broad shoulders and easy grace. Wonwoo gestures weakly and Chan goes to him, tucking himself into Wonwoo’s side, warm and sated.

They breathe together, listening to the A/C hum.

“We should move to my bed,” Wonwoo murmurs after he kicks his pants all the way off. He’s pretty certain he’s lying in some of Chan’s jizz. “Or shower.” 

Chan mashes his face into the side of Wonwoo’s neck. “Nap first.”

“You’re going to regret this,” Wonwoo warns, but he fumbles for his phone and sets an alarm anyway.

“Yes, hyung,” Chan mumbles, half-gone already, and Wonwoo gives in entirely.

He falls asleep in seconds.

\---

His alarm rings half an hour later and Wonwoo rouses Chan, who wakes with a whine. Wonwoo would say 'I told you so' but the fragile newness of waking up with Chan in his arms keeps Wonwoo's deeply petty nature temporarily at bay.

The sheets stick to them and it is objectively one of the nastiest things Wonwoo’s ever experienced. He manoeuvres Chan into the shower and starts the process of soaping him down until he’s awake enough to take over with a grumble. 

Wonwoo gathers Chan in his arms and kisses him on the cheek, just because he can, and Chan goes pliant and pleased. 

“There’s a new dinosaur exhibit at Seodaemun this month,” Wonwoo tells Chan as he shampoos his own hair. 

Chan opens his mouth to catch a bit of the shower spray so he can gargle and spit and it’s all a bit disgusting. 

Wonwoo is half in love.

“Would you like to go with me?” 

“Of course,” Chan says, still a little soft from sleep, and Wonwoo finds he has everything he wants. 


End file.
